Safety and Trust
by MadreLoca
Summary: Gift fic to OrangeZest100.  Reid and Garcia are on a brand new BAU team following the events of OZ's fic Spencer's Secret.  Reid must now learn to trust his new teammates, and along the way he begins to see himself as well as Garcia in a new light. Majorly AU! Reid/Garcia eventualy
1. A New Team

**Title:** Safety and Trust

**Rating:** M

**Summary:** Gift fic to OrangeZest100. Reid and Garcia are on a brand new BAU team following the events of Spencer's Secret. Will Reid ever learn how to trust his new teammates? Majorly AU! Reid/Garcia

**Comments:** This is a sequel to OrangeZest100's fic Spencer's Secret. **I have the authors permission to do this**. You must read that story before you read this one in order to understand what the F is going on here. To find the fic easilly, simply go to my profile and serch my faves. Read it already? Well then, enjoy!

Flashbacks are introduced and concluded with a seriese of periods and are in italics. Example:

. . . . . . . . . .

_Flashback_

. . . . . . . . . .

On with the show!

* * *

><p><em>Cuts, scars, bruises, lies and fake laughs. Fake smiles, constant cries and a horrifying past. Promises broken, lost loves…and the "trust me" that didn't last.<em>

_~Unknown Author_

"It's going to be okay, Spencer. I did background checks on every single one of them. Trust me, if I didn't approve of them Straus would not be making a team out of them."

Spencer Reid gave his (only) friend Penelope Garcia, the technical analyst for the BAU, a skeptical look. "Garcia, the FBI already does background checks on everyone. That didn't stop agents Gideon, Greenaway, Hotchner, Rossi, Prentiss, and Jereu from getting through and-"

The quirky bleach-blond interrupted the young doctor. "No, no, no. You don't seam to understand sweetie. When I say background check I mean I have school records going back to freaking kindergarten, credit scores, bank statements, medical records, social networking profiles, browser histories, even hidden ones, of every IP address they are known to have access to, cell phone call logs, satellite images of every address from birth, you name it I have it. These people haven't downloaded a picture of a kitten or called out for pizza in the past five years that I don't have in my database. Everything is backed up with backups of backups."

"Garcia, I-"

"I am, as I have stated countless times, the all knowing goddess of all things tech. These are good people, Spencer. I trust them."

Trust. He had trusted Jason Gideon when they had first met. He allowed the senior agent to lead his way into the FBI and into the BAU. He had been twenty-one then, just a kid, really.

A kid that was about to be put through a living hell at the hands of his "teammates."

. . . . . . . . . . .

_Jason Gideon shook his head. "I am sick and tiered of hearing about your lunatic bitch of a mother," he said with a disgusted tone and a repulsive snarl. _

_Reid had learned by now that it was best to keep his mouth shut, but an insult to his mother was more than he could take without a fight. "She may be a paranoid schizophrenic but she always supported me with school an did her best for me! She's a good mother!"_

"_Yeah, and I give a shit." The senior agent grabbed Spencer by the neck and pushed him against the wall. He held tight enough to restrict his airway but not tight enough to cut it off completely._

"_Let go of my neck you son of a bitch!"_

"You_ are the son of the _bitch_! Any woman who pops a weak little fag like you out of her cunt can't be anything but worthless."_

_Reid didn't have a chance to retort before Gideon's hand tightened around his neck, and soon after he began to slip away._

. . . . . . . . . .

It wasn't that Reid didn't trust Garcia; he did. She was, after all, the one who had saved him from the nightmare of being tortured for eight years.

That was almost six months ago, during which time Reid had been working from home doing e-mail consultations. Now after almost half a year, he was going back to the field, joining a team of people he had never met and who knew nothing of the horrors committed against him by the old team. He wanted to believe Garcia, but after all these months the pain still felt fresh in his mind making it impossible to believe that a new team wouldn't be the same as the old one.

. . . . . . . . . .

_"Follow through! Follow through you little brat, is it that fucking difficult for you to fire a damn gun!"_

_The back of Aaron Hotchner's hand collided with his face again. With in seconds Reid tasted the salty, metallic tang of his own blood in his mouth._

"_I'm sorry sir, I-"_

"_Shut up!"_

_Hotch's fist in his gut made him double over and struggle for breath._

"_Do you realize how it makes me look if one of my agents can't pass his firearms qualification after _three_ sorry attempts? It makes me look like an idiot, and I am tiered of being humiliated because of a prick like you!"_

_He could barely breath, let alone reply, a fact that he reasoned was probably for the best. His breath caught in his chest preventing him from screaming out in agony when his unit chief's knee made brutal contact with his groin._

. . . . . . . . . .

Garcia and Reid stopped just outside the doors to the bullpen. Garcia looked into Reid's shifting eyes and offered a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry. Everything will be okay."

Generic words that everyone uses when they are left with nothing else to say.

Reid desperately hoped that for once in his life they would be true.

**TBC**


	2. Straus

OMG I had the worst time here trying to write Straus as not being a bitch! I hate her character on the show, but I had to write her as a good guy (yes I mean guy, I swear she's an MTF Trans or something!) So it is safe to say that I am disgusted with myself in more ways than one.

* * *

><p><em>No soul is desolate as long as there is a human being for whom it can feel trust and reverence."<em>

_**~T.S Eliot**_

Reid felt a strange mixture of confusion, relief and disappointment when he, followed closely by Garcia, entered the bullpen for the first time in half a year to find it virtually deserted.

"Where is everyone?" Reid wondered aloud.

"Oh, there's Straus," Garcia answered, pointing to the staircase going down from the office hallway to the bullpen.

Reid and Garcia had met with Section Chief Erin Straus (separately ad together) several times in the past months regarding their futures at in the FBI. Many times she had asked them both if they were sure that they wished to remain in the BAU, to which Reid had always replied, "I've never done anything else; it's all I know," and Garcia insisted, "I'm staying with my Spencer."

_My_ Spencer. The use of the possessive pronoun was not meant to imply actual possession, but rather an almost parental protectiveness and endearment that Reid had always found comforting.

No, Garcia referring to him as "My Spencer" didn't bother him.

The word that scared him was _mine_.

. . . . . . . . . .

_Reid paused just outside the conference room to gather his courage before opening the door and stepping inside. The door latched behind him with a click that punctuated the beginning of yet another painful night._

_The terrified agent turned to face his tormentor for the night. The shadows that the dim light cast on her ruffled red-orange shirt and her straight blond hair in her face crated an almost demonic tone. But that wasn't the first thing he noticed. The first thing he noticed was the knife in her hand._

"_No one else here," she said in a voice that reminded him of countless sadistic unsubs the team had encountered. "Tonight Spence, your all _mine_!"_

. . . . . . . . . .

Not that Garcia would ever say or do anything remotely along the same vein as what had happened to him before.

Straus approached her two subordinate agents with a tugging across her face that was meant to be a smile. She had never been good at sympathy, but she meant well, and that was what mattered to Reid. Cognitively he knew that Straus would never hurt him, but that didn't stop him from half expecting her to hurt him in some creatively sick way every time he met with the cold-faced blonde.

. . . . . . . . . .

_Reid watched from his desk as Garcia popped her head in to Acting Unit Chief Derek Morgan's office, then seconds later walk away smiling. She had no idea that the man she flirted with was really a sociopath and borderline sadist. _

_He envied the technical genius such ignorance._

"_Hay Genius Boy," she said flirtatiously as she walked by. "Morgan told me to tell you that he wants you to go up to his office; something about a file."_

_Reid knew perfectly well that there was no file in need of discussing. _

_He was also terrified for the technical analyst. This was the second time they had taken advantage of her and used her innocence to relay things to him. He would never forgive himself if something happened to her because of his cowardice. _

_It was this cowardice that made him comply with Morgan's request (and so many others), that made him take of his shoes when commanded to do so, that made him allow Morgan to tie him to a chair in his office without protest, and that made him hold back any sound of pain as the temporary unit chief inserted .5 mechanical pencil lead under his toenails._

. . . . . . . . . .

"Dr Reid," the section chief greeted, "It's good to have you back."

"Thank you," he replied, never knowing what to say to the woman before him.

"I bet you're anxious to meet the new team. They're all in the conference room, and I would like to address all of you together as a team before you commence your duties." Straus motioned for Reid and Garcia to follow her to the conference room.

She was right, he _was_ anxious. And also terrified. The last time had had been in any of those offices, he was being beaten and/or tortured. Reid had always been good at analyzing a situation, accounting for all different variables, mentally enacting all possible coerces of action, and forecasting all probable outcomes.

But now, for the first time in his life, Spencer Reid had absolutely no idea what to expect.

**TBC**


	3. Introductions

Sorry it took me so long to update, my life is a bit crazy right now so writing is not really something I have a tone of time for, plus my computer has been sick for a few months. Muchos gracias to OrangeZest100 for the reviews and for letting me do this in the first place and to Graveygraves for letting me bounce ideas off of you!

BTW the redhead OC's name is pronounced **Key-la **(what you open doors with-a note to follow _so_)

* * *

><p><em>One comes to believe whatever one repeats to oneself sufficiently often, whether the statement is true of false. It comes to be a dominating thought in one's mind.<br>**~Robert Collier**_

Excitement and dread churned in Reid's stomach a she stopped in front of the conference room behind Straus. The section chief turned her head meet his eyes only for a millisecond, and the chestnut haired genius' heart jumped. He knew that someone's eyes could say a lot more than their words. Erin's eyes did not say _You'll be fine_ or _I hope you're ready_. No. What he read in her eyes was stern.

_Don't screw this up_.

And just like that it was as if he had entered an alternate dimension. He didn't remember the doorknob turning with a click, or even the act of walking into the room. In one moment he was standing between Straus and Garcia, facing a round table full of five faces he had never seen before but instantly memorized.

"Good morning everyone," Straus greeted

The silence after the section chief's greeting was almost too much for Reid, so he focused on the clicking sound made by Straus's gray pumps as she crossed the room. She pulled herself out a chair and sat down to the left of an older-looking black woman. With one glance an the name tag on her chest, Reid could tell that the woman Straus had seated herself next to was the new unit chief.

_The new Hotch._

As he and Garcia seated themselves next to each other, he told himself he would have to train himself not to think like that. No one was the "new" anyone. Hard as it may be, he would have to try to see these people in their own lights.

When everyone was seated, Straus began what was sure to be a generic introduction straight out of some sort of handbook. "For most of you this is the first time you have met the agents who will from this day forward be your teammates. There will be plenty of time for you all to get to know each other and become the trusted comrades that agents of the BAU should be. For now, we will start wit a basic introduction. Please state your name and briefly tell us about your educational history as well as your time in the FBI. Unit Chief LaHay will begin."

"My name is Raiin LaHay." Began the woman whose dyed brown hair was pulled tightly back into a bun. "I'm thirty years old," she winked, only to notice a glare from Straus. She cleared her throat and mumbled, "I'm 42." The continued in her normal voice, which was commanding like a unit chief's voice should be, but she didn't have the stoic, cold edge of former unit chief Hotchner. Reid felt relieved by this. "I was a paralegal before joining the FBI and starting out in the OCU, Organized Crime Unit. I was with the same team for eleven years before budget cuts broke us up and I transferred to missing persons where I stayed for a year and a half while attending the cores to be a profiler."

Raiin nodded to stout Hispanic man beside her, establishing a clockwise order around the table. "Hola, me llamo, Clemente. Yo soy…" Everyone laughed with the exception of Reid, who only cracked a small smile, and Straus, the perpetual glare on her face aimed at the self-established comedian. "Sorry. My name is Clemente Santomero. I used to do a lot of undercover work tracking cartels back and forth across the border, and that's technically all I can say."

Next was an older man appearing to be in his late forties. He was white, but very tan. His hair was salt and pepper with more salt than pepper and he wore a clean-shaven goatee on his prominent chin. "My name is Douglass Brennan. It is _not_ Doug for short. I'm old, but don't think I can't chase down an unsub half my age. This isn't my first time in the BAU. I was one of the first and I transferred around the same time Agent Rossi retired," he mumbled under his breath "Back-stabbing two-faced son of a bitch."

Reid tensed and looked at Garcia in a shock that could not be hidden.

_Why didn't she tell me? _

He was able to answer his own question.

_Because she knew I would freak out like I'm doing now. _

_Stay calm. He's not Rossi. He's nothing like Rossi. He _hates_ Rossi. See? You already have something in common._

The BAU veteran cleared his throat and continued. "I didn't leave the bureau though. I did phsiche evals for agents entering in for a long time and I mean a long time. Then I heard ol' Rossi came back and fucked shit up like he always does, so I decided to come back and try to fix his mess."

When Douglass appeared to have said all he wanted to say, Straus made a statement before allowing the introductions to continue. "Thank you for your informative introduction Douglass. However, in the future, and this includes everyone, there will be no need for profanity in a professional setting such as this one. Dr. Reid, you're next."

_Shit._

Reid forced a week smile. "Hi. Um…" he nervously cleared his throat. "I'm Dr. Spencer Reid. I have Doctorates in engineering and psychology as well as a Master's degree in philosophy. I was fast tracked into the FBI when I was twenty one and straight into the BAU when I was twenty two and, aside from busting tables at IHOP when I was sixteen, I have done literally nothing else but this."

The room was silent for the longest 4.7 seconds of Reid's life, and he had a fleeting yet heavy feeling that he had done something wrong. His feelings were eased when Garcia broke the silence.

"I'm Penelope Garcia. When I was in college, I got caught hacking into some FBI files. Obviously the government was amazed at my technical genius, unlimited resourcefulness, and stunning beauty and they offered me a choice between a job or a prison sentence, thus I am sitting before you lucky people now because orange is just NOT a good color for me."

Her last comment got a laugh from everyone, even Straus.

As soon as laughing stopped, the young redhead to Garcia's left began to introduce herself. Her long almost unnaturally red hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and her seemingly perpetual smile overtook her entire face. "I'm Keila Dahlgren. I'm twenty-five and fresh out of the FBI academy. I have a Masters degree in investigative journalism and Bachelors degrees in political science and criminal psychology, which is why the they thought I would be the perfect communications liaison."

_So she's the new JJ. _

_No. Stop thinking like that. These are different people. They profile differently, they act differently, and they _willtreat me_ differently!_

The last introduction was made by a man whose sharp facial features and long straight black hair unmistakably gave him away as Native American. "I'm Chuck Hooper. My Navajo tribal name is _Tsiishch'Ili, _and yes I'm a full blood Navajo Indian. I worked my way through colege as a police officer on my reservation before joining the FBI five years ago. I have a Masters degree in Behavioral Phsycology and an Asociates degree in American History. Ever sense I heard of behavioral analasis and forensic profiling I've wanted to be in this unit because I've always been facinated by how and why people act."

After the last introduction, Straus smiled and delivered another textbook speech. "Thank you all for introducing yourselves. Obviously we will not be hopping on the jet chasing unsubs right away. We will spend the majority of today making sure everyone is properly briefed on BAU protocol. Reid, Garcia, there has been a number of minor changes. After today you will all work as a group doing group consultations. Agent Dahlgren will brief the case; you will discuss the case and form a rough profile while Garcia provides your technical support from her own office –"

"Bat Cave," Garcia interrupted.

"Excuse me?"

"I've always called my office the Bat Cave."

"Very well then. Garcia will provide your technical support from her," Straus sighed, "'Bat Cave.' Unit Chief LaHay will send the profile to the appropriate precinct. Depending on how well you bond together as a team and what sort of cases the unit is presented with, this will go on anywhere from three days to two weeks."

Reid let the Section Chief's voice float away as she continued talking and began to hand out paperwork. He felt good about the new team so far, all except Douglass Brennan and his apparent history with David Rossi. This was a detail he could not drive from his mind no matter how hard he tried. But he read what he had to read and signed what he had to sign and hoped that everything would continue to be, as his only friend Penelope Garcia would say, just peachy.

* * *

><p><strong>Are you interested in finding out what kind of history Brennan and Rossi have? Me too! That just kinda wrote itself!<strong>


	4. Nothing Unexpected

Pay close attention the (long) flashback in this chapter. It mentions a few seemingly small things that will be very important later.

* * *

><p><em>"Let us not look back in anger or forward in fear, but around in awareness."<br>**~James Thurber**_

_Reid sat in Hotch's office where the only light was the yellowish glow of the reading lamp on the unit chief's desk. Reid's hands lay still on his knees and his eyes studied the grain of the hard wood desk in front of him. He memorized the tint of the stain and every swirl and arch while the owner of the desk sat behind it watching him with the unreadable stoic expression he always wore, one that looked even more sinister in the present lighting._

_They were just waiting. Waiting for the knock at the door that would come right about…_

…_Now._

_Their eyes met from across the desk and Hotch's dark eyes narrowed. In a jerking motion, Hotch nodded to the door. Reid understood this silent command and quickly (almost in a panic, for he knew the penalty for hesitating) stood to open the door._

_There stood David Rossi, the agent who had just returned from twenty years of retirement. Reid had hoped the BAU veteran would not be included in the collaboration of torture by the rest of the team. Apparently he was wrong._

"_Come on in, Dave," Hotch greeted casually. Reid stepped aside and allowed him to step inside the dimly lit office and closed the door behind him._

_Ignoring Reid, Rossi asked Hotch, "So how exactly does this work?_

"_However you want. The boy's totally compliant." _

_Reid's concentrated his stare back to the grain of the wooden desk, not noticing the expressions of his torturer(s). He heard Rossi hum thoughtfully before turning around to face him. "Role up your sleeve and hold out your arm," he ordered. From the corner of his eye he saw Rossi reach into his pocket and he could not help but turn his eyes in that direction. He tried in vain to stifle a horrified gasp when he saw what his new "colleague" had: a Zippo lighter. His panic was so great he barely took note of what appeared to be a gold inscription on the silver metal. _

_He tried to force himself to move, but he was petrified there. He knew he could not hesitate, he knew he had to do exactly what they told him to. The others had always done terrible things to him, but none of them had ever used fire or burned him before._

_Hotch must have sensed Reid's hesitation. "Do as he says!"_

_Reid jumped and was startled into action. With a shaking right hand he unfastened the buttons on the sleeve cuff on his long sleeves buttoned shirt and rolled it up to the elbow. It took all of his strength to hold out his left arm, knowing exactly what was coming._

_With a clink and a flick the lighter produced a flame about an inch tall that gave off an ominous light that highlighted Rossi's evil grin. Reid clenched his eyes closed as soon as he felt the heat under his arm. It started at the back of his forearm and slowly moved forward. By the time the agonizing burning made it to his wrist, he was holding his breath and bighting his lip so that he would not scream._

_Rossi let out a dark chuckle. "We didn't have this in the old days."_

_Reid felt the skin of his lip break. When he felt the thin line of blood trickle down his chin, he finally gave up on holding back and screamed in pain. _

_. . . . . . . . . ._

Reid awoke screaming and trembling from his nightmare. His eyes darted frantically in every direction as it took him at least five seconds to recognize his own bedroom, and another five to realize what had woken him up.

On the nightstand by his bed, his cell phone continued to ring. He glanced at the caller ID and read: LaHay. He grabbed the phone, flipped it open, and answered in a week voice.

"Hello?"

"I'm sorry to call you so early, Dr. Reid," she began. Her voice sounded firm but desperate. "We weren't supposed to have a field case until next week, but there is a fifteen year old boy missing and we have to leave as soon as possible."

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

As Reid got out of bed, showered, dressed, and drove himself to work, he tried to focus his mind of just that: work. But all he could think about was Douglass Brennan and David Rossi.

"_We didn't have this in the old days."_

Brennan was there in the "old days," right along with Rossi and probably Jason Gideon for that matter. What didn't they have in the old days? Someone to torture? In that case, when did it start? Was Reid the first? Why did Brennan leave the BAU, and even more important, why did he seam to despise Rossi so deeply?

By the time Reid pulled into the parking lot, his mind was swimming with questions about Brennan, Rossi, Gideon, and the "old BAU." That was, until he saw Garcia half a lane ahead f him, getting out of her own car. Then he smiled. Garcia always had a way of taking his mind off of things and cheering him up. Perhaps after talking to her he could clear his mind and focus on the case.


	5. Heroes

Sorry I took so long!

We interrupt this previously established Reid-centric story to bring you some insight into the mind of Penelope Garcia. This is almost a story in itself, a filler chapter if you will, as it contains no important plot points. Plus it's set up like a songfic, thus somewhat breaking the flow of the rest of the story. But I think that's needed at this point before things REALLY start to get heavy.

Lyrics belong to David Bowie, not me. Observant trivia nuts may recognize this song from … tell me what CM episode and you gat a cookie. Hint: It was a Garcia-centric episode that fed a lot of Morgan/Garcia shippers!

* * *

><p>Penelope Garcia sang happily along to David Bowie's hit song Heroes driving in her car on her way to work. It wasn't the type of music the bubbly self proclaimed tech goddess normally listened to, but for some reason this song always made her feel strong and confidant, like she could accomplish anything. She needed that feeling this morning. Her worries about the new team and how Reid was adjusting had been keeping her awake a lot lately.<p>

_I, I will be king_  
><em>And you, You will be queen<em>  
><em>Though nothing will drive them away<em>  
><em>We can beat them<em>  
><em>Just for one day<em>  
><em>We can be heroes<em>  
><em>Just for one day<em>

If she was honest, she was a bit nervous for herself. Garcia wasn't the biggest fan of change no matter how good or necessary, and the complete and total reinvention of the BAU had as much as tipped her entire world upside-down. She was adaptable, though, a trait she was forced learn in order to cope with the horrors that bogged down each and every computer screen in her "Bat Cave." Over time she had learned to focus on the things she still had. She still had her computer systems complete with high-tech software most of which she developed for herself, she still had the Dr. Who action figures and fuzzy pink pens that cluttered her desks and most importantly, she still had Spencer. Her Spencer.

_And you, you can be mean_  
><em>And I, I'll drink all the time<em>  
><em>'Cause we're lovers<em>  
><em>And that is a fact<em>  
><em>Yes we're lovers<em>  
><em>And that is that<em>

Yes, Dr. Spencer Reid was hers; hers to protect and nurse back to emotional health. Yes she had the lives of the new BAU agents detailed and tracked in her far reaching computer system, yes she personally interviewed five of them (something she would never tell Straus or Reid), yes she was keeping a keen eye on the goings on in, yes she had practically interrogated Reid about how he was interacting with the team, but she couldn't help the feeling that she wasn't doing enough to make sure Reid stayed safe. She knew that eventually she would have to stop "flipping out" so to speak and just let the team be a team. It wasn't that she distrusted LaHay, Brennan, Santomero, Hooper, or Dahlgren; she was just bound and determined to make up for what had happened before.

_Though nothing_

_Will keep us together_  
><em>We could steal time<em>  
><em>Just for one day<em>  
><em>We can be Heroes<em>  
><em>For ever and ever<em>  
><em>What d'you say<em>

Secretly Garcia blamed herself for what the old team had done to Reid. She couldn't believe she had been friends with all six profilers and had never known or even once suspected anything was amiss. The bar nights with JJ and Emily (and Elle before she left), the merciless flirting with Morgan; it all made her sick to think about. But on top of that she knew she couldn't do that to herself and that the only thing that was her fault was the fact that Reid escaped from that hell. Beating herself up over bygones would not erase the past, improve her own mood in the present, and it would not change the prospects of the future. The future is what had to matter if this new team was to function.

_I, I will be king_  
><em>And you, you will be queen<em>  
><em>Though nothing<em>  
><em>Will drive them away<em>  
><em>We can be Heroes<em>  
><em>Just for one day<em>  
><em>We can be us<em>  
><em>Just for one day<em>

After fighting her way through the morning traffic, Garcia finally made it to her designated slot in the parking lot. She loved seeing that sign every morning: _TA Garcia - BUA_. It wasn't a matter of her name on a sign making her feel important or needed; she didn't need a parking spot for that because she already knew she was important and needed. It was simply the fact that she hated hunting for parking. Seconds after she put her vehicle in park she saw The object of her recent conflicted thoughts pulling in to his own designated parking slot: _SSA Reid, PhD – BAU_.

_I, I can remember_  
><em>Standing by the wall<em>  
><em>And the guns shot above our heads<em>  
><em>And we kissed as though nothing could fall<em>  
><em>And the shame<em>  
><em>Was on the other side<em>  
><em>Oh we can beat them<em>  
><em>For ever and ever<em>  
><em>Then we can be Heroes<em>  
><em>Just for one day<em>

Something happened that surprised her. She blushed and her heart skipped a beat. Was she really letting herself…

Focus on the case. Yes. She was letting herself focus on the case. From what Keila had told her on the phone, she knew that two teenaged boys were dead and another was missing. If she could focus on the case she could forget her nervousness, her worry, her guilt, and the fact that she was developing a somewhat twisted Florence Nightingale Syndrome.

_We can be Heroes_  
><em>Just for one day<em>  
><em>We can be Heroes<em>  
><em>We're nothing<em>  
><em>And nothing will help us<em>  
><em>Maybe we're lying<em>  
><em>Then you better not stay<em>  
><em>But we could be safer<em>  
><em>Just for one day<em>


	6. First Case

We now return to the story as it was meant to be. If you hadn't already guessed: in addition to this being and angsty hurt/comfort Reid/Garcia romance, this will also be a case fic. The case will bring the team to a real place, and in describing the town itself I tried to be as accurate as possible. However the original characters and the boarding school are in now way meant to resemble real people/places. I will still be mentioning actual places, events and landmark in later chapters. So enough of my rambling, on with chapter 6!

BTW, This story is set in mid April, so kids are still in school. Ok, read on.

_The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown._

_**~H. P. Lovecraft**_

Reid was the next to last to arrive in the conference room where Unit Chief LaHay, Communications Liaison Dahlgren, and Agents Hooper and Santomero had all taken their established usual places at the round table. He gave a quick half-smile and a small wave as a collective greeting and took his own seat, the one closest to the door.

"Good morning, Spencer," Keila said with a bright smile. "Thanks for getting here so fast."

"Agent Brennan called a few minutes ago. He's on his way." LaHay said to everyone. It was no surprise to anyone that Brennan was the last to arrive.

"He's here," came a voice from the doorway. Everyone looked in that direction and watched Douglass Brennan saunter through the doorway and flop down into his seat between Santomero and Reid.

"Nice of you to join us," mumbled Hooper who had probably been the fist (aside form LaHay) to arrive, as he usually was.

"Wow man, are you hung over?" Asked Santomero, half joking half serious. The older man only grunted and shrugged lazily.

LaHay rolled her eyes; Keila smiled awkwardly and began picked up her remote. She handed a stack of files to LaHay, who passed them clock wise around the table from herself to Santomero, Brannan, Reid, and Hooper.

"Our first case takes us to Nevada and the little town of Ely," Keila began.

"Ely," Santomero questioned. "I've been all over Nevada and never heard of Ely."

Reid had of cores being from Nevada, had heard of the city. "Ely, Nevada. 7.1 square miles, population 4,255; established during the copper boom of 1906."

"Also home to Lincoln Boarding School, a sixth-twelfth grade private prep school," added Keila.

Santomero chuckled. "Never heard of that either."

"It's extremely difficult to be accepted." Reid informed the group. "Students must have a minimum of a 3.8 GPA, have a perfect attendance and behavior record and pass a grueling entrance exam in order for an application to even be considered. Faculty and staff are even more painstakingly chosen. You can't just go apply, you have to be invited to apply by the dean."

LaHay nodded. "Thank you, Reid. That tells us a lot about what we'll be dealing with. It seams these people are a very exclusive group and won't take kindly to our intrusion."

Keila sighed. "That defiantly won't help him." She clicked her remote and the overhead screen showed a picture of a teenaged boy with shaggy blond hair and the darkest blue eyes imaginable. "This is sixteen-year-old Adam Cook. He disappeared without a trace this morning. Within the same hour, 16 Connor Ray and 14 Skyler Carmichael were found dead in the cafeteria storage room and under the bleachers on the track field respectively." With one more click of the remote, side-by-side crime scene photos were reveled. Both boys were lying unceremoniously on their backs. They were fully clothed, but even the untrained eye cold tell that, on both boys, it was a sloppy re-dress. "Preliminary forensics reports an un-fixed lividity, meaning they didn't die where they were found."

"That doesn't make any sense," Hooper thought aloud. "Why would you dump a body in such an obvious place?"

"Obviously 'cause you want someone to find them," Brennan answered. "Question is what kind'a point would that make?"

"Perhaps it was a staging of some sort?" Reid mused.

LaHay interrupted the team's brainstorm. "We can discuss more on the jet. I'll call Garcia and let her know that we'll all be leaving in half an hour."

"Garcia's coming?" Reid asked, just as much confused as excited.

"Orders from Straus." LaHay explained briefly. "Ely is surrounded by low mountains some wooded areas. If our communications are disrupted, we may need to rely on satellite. For that, we'll need Garcia on sight."

So the team gathered their files, gear, and go-bags in preparation for their first field case as a new team. Only Reid, trained by years of weariness and conspiracy, suspected an ulterior motive for Straus' orders.


	7. Dynamics

Remember way back in chapter two when I said I hated having to make Straus look like a good person? Well in this chapter I finally get so show her as the two-faced bitch that she is!

_While all deception requires secrecy, all secrecy is not meant to deceive._

_~**Sissela Bok**_

"Yes Ma'am. Yes, I'm on my way up. Good-bye." Garcia nervously hung up her phone and gathered the equipment that she would need to take with her to Ely. She was wanted in the Section Chief's office ASAP. Garcia couldn't help but almost panic. She had been on the jet before with the "old team" and had never been trough this. They had all already had their private consultation with Straus after the first day of introductions. Why else would the Section Chief need a private emergency meeting with the Technical Analyst? It could only be something really good or something really bad, and with Straus nothing was ever _really_ good.

. . . . . . . . . . .

The door to the section chief's office was left halfway open. Garcia knocked lightly.

"Come in," Straus invited.

Garcia did as she was instructed, closing the door behind her. She sat down in the chair across from the desk.

"Good morning, Garcia. Now to start off," Straus began unceremoniously, "I'm sure you have a few questions."

"Yes ma'am. I know it's a remote place the team is going to, so they might need me on sight for communications purposes. It's also the team's first field case and it would be nice to have us all together to get used to the dynamics in the field, but given the fact that I'm in your office, I'm assuming there's another reason."

"You assume correctly Miss Garcia." Straus pushed a sizeable pile or paperwork across her desk to Garcia. "The director suggested to me that I might prepare a few forms and questioners for you. I would like you to work on them throughout the case and turn them in to me as soon as you return to Quantico."

_A few_? Garcia thought to herself. She casually thumbed through the stack of paper Straus had given to her. There were forms upon forms, questions upon questions, and pages and pages of blank reports. "I thought case reports were Unit Chief LaHay's job."

Straus gave a sharp nod. "They are. But this is not a case report, Garcia. It's more of a survey of sorts so I can get a feel for the team dynamics in the field. Call it a PPR, or a "Preliminary Personnel Review."

Straus' explanation did not clear the technical analyst's confusion; if anything it made it worse. "I still don't understand."

The section chief's eyes narrowed and she leaned forward slightly. "But you do understand the importance of avoiding another scandal like the one you and Dr. Reid brought to my attention six months ago. One more incident of workplace violence in this unit could destroy not only your team but also the entire Behavioral Analysis Unit. _That_ you understand, Miss Garcia?

Garcia did understand that the FBI had to do what was necessary to protect its agents. She had always known that Straus had been just as angry and disgusted as she had been when Reid, after years of abuse, had finally reported the violence. But Garcia was starting to wonder exactly _why_ Straus had been angry and disgusted. Was Straus more concerned with Reid's safety and well-being or with the reputation of the agency?

"Yes ma'am," Garcia answered hesitantly. "I understand. However, may I make one request?"

"You may request."

"Reid is obviously much more effected by the…um…change in dynamics than I am, and he's the one working directly with the new agents in the field. May I enlist his help with this so-called PPR?"

"Absolutely not. If you read through the report fully, you will see just as many questions about him as there are of the others. No one is to know about this report but you and me. You are not even to tell your unit chief and defiantly not Dr. Reid."

Garcia was stunned at what she was being asked, no, _ordered_ to do. "You want me to lie to Reid?"

Straus leaned even farther forward, halfway across her desk. Nervously Garcia leaned back, sinking into the leather-upholstered chair. "It's obvious that you are already letting your feelings for Dr. Reid intrude upon your duties, Miss Garcia. But I have feelings of my own; feelings of wanting to keep my job. I have had the director and IAD breathing down my neck for half a year so let me make one thing brutally clear."

Garcia had never been privy to the details (nor did she wish to be) but her basic understanding was this: agents Hotchner, Rossi, Prentiss and Jereau all resigned discretely in exchange for not having federal criminal charges brought against them. This meant that there was no in-depth investigation, thus Reid was spared the interviews, physical exams, and court proceedings.

Straus, however, had not been spared the bureaucracy. Her administration had been immediately put under the microscope. Perhaps Straus had been unfairly scrutinized through all of this, but that, in Garcia's eyes, did not justify her impersonal, cold approach to the situation. And what did she mean by _feelings_ for Reid?

Straus continued. "Nothing I've done had been for the personal benefit of any one person, let alone Dr. Reid. My priority is, has always been, and will always be the integrity of the bureau. If said integrity is compromised once again by this unit, every person who has anything to do with the BAU, from the person who cleans the windows all the way up to me will be out of a job. The firing will start with you and Dr. Reid, and I will see to that personally!"

Garcia had no idea what she was going to do. There was no way she could go behind Reid's back and report on him to Straus. If she, the last person on earth Reid truly trusted, betrayed that trust, it would crush him.

There was also no way she could disobey Straus. If she refused to inform on her own team, she would bring the BAU to ruins.

Either way she was horrible. If she did the reports, she was as bad as Straus: reducing Reid to forms from some bureaucrat with no concept of the word _team_. If she did not do the reports, she was as bad as the old team; causing pain to everyone else for selfish motives.

The lesser of the two evils was quite obvious.

Garcia took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "Yes ma'am."


End file.
